Struggle Through The Night With Someone New
by unsuspectingTies
Summary: Graduation happened. Years passed. Beca is not where she expected to be at this point. She's still young, and she should still be trying things out. She shouldn't be haunted by "what could have been." Not yet, anyway. Right? BECHLOE BECHLOE BECHLOE


_I am ALIVE. I swear it. I will sing it from the hilltops if you'd rather! Okay, Haley, no one gives a shit. BUT HEY! I have a new little shin dig up in here, and I hope to make it a wonderful multi chapter story. I also plan to continue those on here that are not complete. Truly! I am back. And do you know why? I met Anna Kendrick in person. And I met **50 Shades of Pitch Perfect** at that same event! Whaaaaaaat. Turns out we are all connected in this fandom, it was awesome. Inspiration is alive and well. Hope everyone is reading her new book! PS - I know I used a Taylor Swift lyric as the title...but it'll make sense. Let me know if you're still with me. X_

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 **Chapter 1**

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Chloe's collar bone.

There was just something about both of them. Noticeable – not in a stark, frightening way – but rather a mesmerizing way. Beca found herself thinking about Chloe's collar bones often. When the two girls first met, in fact. It was just after she was able to catch her breath again, just after she finally blinked from staring at Chloe's powerful eyes. She lingered her sight down to Chloe's necklace – but just for a second. Chloe's neckline was prettier. She was smitten from day one, however she wouldn't admit that. Playing dumb was almost as good as her "playing cool" trick. She also just wasn't ready for such a leap. Beca had confidence and could show that off. She could show that off if no one else was too close. If no one _knew_ her that well. She would hold the upper hand. She would have control. She needed some type of control— at this point in her life, especially.

But now she's losing all control.

It started with a long kiss at the base of Chloe's neck. Just between those collar bones. Beca's tongue lapped the small valley between. Slowly, drawing all lingering warmth and taste, like drawing from the last rays of sun after a long day.

That was their first touch – Beca's tongue. No hands, barely a breath. Chloe felt the chilled sensation – one in which blended to heat within milliseconds. Magic. Chloe closed her eyes and arched her upper back and shoulders as a means to move into the touch, to press against Beca's lips.

Beca closed her eyes tighter. She felt her legs squeeze tighter – legs that were straddling Chloe's lap.

Flip.

She felt her sex flip. Her stomach was done for – this however was like a subtle kick. Ride it, grind her, feel her Bec. She wants you to.

Though she was doing this, though she was in the _driver's seat_ , Beca still felt as if her core was melting, and loosening against Chloe's abdomen. A melting in which caused her lower area to pulse, reacting to such a heat, surrendering to it. Beat. Sigh. Beat. Moan.

This is what she wanted.

This is what she wanted.

This is what she _needed_.

Beca—moving with her new inspiration—moving with her lower center—began to push slowly up against Chloe. She pressed her thighs down into Chloe's thighs and raised her lower lips up to Chloe's bellybutton. She pressed down so that Chloe was somehow pressing against her clit. It felt so good. She needed to press harder.

"Fuck…" Chloe whined.

"You turned on, baby?"

"Beca, please, baby…"

Beca's mouth ghosted along the center of Chloe's neck.

"What's wrong Chlo? What do you need?"

Her teeth grazed that right _fucking_ collar bone.

"I…I…Ohhhh…" Chloe whined.

Beca bucked her hips a bit in order to exaggerate her "pressing matters."

"Tell me how to fuck you."

"I…I…Jesus Christ BECA!"

Beca moved up to Chloe's whimpering mouth and pressed hard into a passionate kiss. Beca's eyes were closed however they showed her the endless possibilities with this girl. The Chloe Beale. She was Beca's. She was under Beca for the time being. Beca squeezed Chloe's breasts.

"C-Could you…will you…"

"Will I what, Chlo?"

"I want you to…"

Beca, now humming against Chloe's skin, began kissing down Chloe's neck, nipping specifically in a few moments here and there. Teasing.

"Beca don't stop…Beca I need you to…"

"Say it…what can I do for you baby…"

"CAN YOU PLEASE GET OFF OF MY BAG ALREADY?"

Lights ON. Hard brake!

"What the fuck?" Beca snapped up to attention. It was as if she was falling from a great height, and finally hit the hard ground. No pain yet – still adrenaline high. Still hazy, and quite startled. Perhaps a little wet – debatable.

"Yeah, wake up shorty…this is my stop and you've been asleep on my damn bag!"

Beca didn't know who the hell this bitch was, but it certainly wasn't the red head she was just dreaming about.

"Y-yeah. Okay, sorry." Beca stammered, shifting against the hard bench on the subway.

"For fuck's sake, I thought you were dead!"

"I can see you were truly concerned for my well-being you Saint."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you!"

"No, no, no, you just keep at it with that pole and you'll arrive soon enough. Cunt!"

Beca looked around, and then looked down. To her shock, she was wrapped up with the pole nearest her bench on the subway. Her eyes bugged out. She looked back, but the bitch with her bitch bag was already gone. Beca then glanced around to see the rest of her audience. Some were laughing; one dude gave her thumbs up, another gal winked at her mouthing "I wish honey." Nope, that was another guy.

Beca all but flipped around in her seat, moving off of the pole in the most difficult way possible. At one point she fell on her stomach and looked like a baby mermaid. Mental image that. CUTE.

Once she gained her wits about her, she ran her hands through her hair. _Time to flip back on the cool factor_. If she wanted to have a wet dream on the subway, she was going to act as if that was completely intentional and quite frankly, everyone should feel stupid for not doing the same. In performing her nonchalant demeanor, she looked up to see where the subway was at this point in time. Couple hundred million blocks from her? Yeah cool. Time to go.

Beca moved off immediately at the next stop. To her dismay, gaining quite a few whistles. She rolled her eyes. Perhaps a nice long walk would do her good. Perhaps it would quiet her restless mind.

As she walked home, the wind began to pick up. Global Warming sure, however tonight was actually pretty chilly. The wind chill sucked. Though she was in New York, she still hadn't seen any snow. It was December 1st a day from now, and still nothing. Nothing but a light jacket and dark evenings.

She crossed her arms and picked up her pace a bit.

Did that really just happen?

"I've gotta stop falling asleep in public places…" Beca muttered to herself.

You see, when she was in the privacy of her apartment, she could act on these nightly dreams of Chloe. Scratch that, she can still _act_ on them anywhere. Was she now dating a pole? Fuck.

She would call him Phillip.

NO STOP.

Beca shook her head and bit her lip, gliding down the sidewalk and moving past the occasional stranger. Truth be told, distance wasn't helping. The farther she was from Chloe, the more she saw the ghost of Chloe. The more she waned, not waxed. It was horrible. _Time_ has to make this stop. That's what she believed. That's what she had to believe. Buck up, Mitchell!

Beca finally reached her stoop. It wasn't the nicest of places – but it also wasn't a hole in the wall. She would have been fine with that too, however her dad was a big help in getting her to the city. It was a sudden impulse to go to the Big Apple. She only ever wanted to go to LA for her music. Something got into her. "Show Business" probably. The Bellas, the stages, the singing. She could dabble here, right? She could have dabbled in LA too. What was she thinking?

Chloe is still on the East Coast.

Well…Aubrey too.

NOT JUST BECA.

Cynthia Rose is in fucking Maine! That's close?

She would never allow herself to think that she stayed closer because she was scared to leave her friends too far behind. Beca drew a sharp breath in. When did she become so finicky? So loud upstairs? Block it out, man. You're Beca Effin' Mitchell!

You're Beca fucking Chloe Mitchell.

STOP.

Beca pulled out her keys. She began to shift them around, trying to find that last stubborn key that would actually be correct. When she found the key, she raised it up to the street light reflection on her building's wall. It was some sort of a HUZZAH moment, but also a reaffirming moment that she finally found the fucking key.

That's when her hand reached out and grabbed Beca's hand.


End file.
